


Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero

by Lady_Ifrit



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ifrit/pseuds/Lady_Ifrit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto muses on the role of being a brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EternalDarkEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalDarkEyes/gifts).



_Onii-chan._

Elder Brother.

Makoto remembered the day his brother and sister were born clearly. A Wednesday, after school, in spring. His mother and father had left for the hospital and called the school in the afternoon to tell him to stay at Haru's until they picked him up. He even remembers Haru's mother, Aunty Kiyo, had cut them both apples before she'd set about cooking dinner and then stopped halfway because his father had called to say that his siblings were born.

He'd been too distracted to do anything properly - even play with Haru, let alone do his homework - the whole day and he spent the ride to the hospital flitting between anxious and excited, holding Haru's hand and wringing the hem of his shirt tight with the other. Anxious about his mother, who had become increasingly slow and tired and because someone had told him what a caesarean was. Excited for his new siblings. Wondering what they would be like and wondering if he would be a good brother.

He remembers his father's arms had been warm when he'd run into them at the end of the hallway and his mother had looked tired but bright-eyed as she lay in bed. She'd kissed the top of his head when he'd climbed up next to her and then turned him to the large bassinet next to her so that he could peer in.

"Look Makoto, you have a brother and a sister. Ren, Ran, meet your _onii-chan_."

At eight years old, he hadn't seen very many newborns - most of the babies he'd seen were on TV and at least a few months old; plump and round, cooing and laughing. The babies in the crib were small, wrinkled as if they'd soaked too long in a hot bath.

"Like prunes." Haru had said when he'd wandered in with his mother and peered in.

Being an only child for eight years meant Makoto had never particularly had to share his parents' attention with anyone before. And that was probably the biggest transition when the babies were brought home. They cried. A lot. When it wasn't one, it was the other and the whole family's attention was taken up with tending to them, harried and low on rest. Ren cried, often and loudly, while Ran developed a habit as a toddler of interrupting any moment between him and his mother or father, squeezing between them on the couch or at the table to redirect their focus on her. And while Makoto had never been a particularly needy or attention-seeking child, even he had felt a little lonely at times.

Being the elder child by such an age gap also meant he often had to take responsibility for the things that they did too and he often found himself being scolded for the things they'd done wrong. And little by little, they were taking up his space and his things until nothing was really his own any more. And they got into his things. All. The time. He'd lost count of the number of his things that had been lost or destroyed by the rough treatment of their little hands.

He remembered there had been one time when he'd come home from school to find them drawing on his walls with the new set of colouring pens he'd been given as a present from his grandmother, ruining both considerably. They'd ended up needing to repaint the room after he and his parents had tried (unsuccessfully) to scrub the stuff off. Ren and Ran had been so pleased with their work though, even though the felt nibs were ruined and there was ink everywhere, decorated in little handprints all over his stuff. He hadn't even had a chance to use those pens yet. He remembered his mother had rubbed his back to comfort him as he sat, feeling sorry for himself, and Ren and Ran had cried as they apologised when she explained that what they had done was wrong.

And, of course, that hadn't been the last time. There was the plant he'd been trying to grow for weeks on his balcony in a little pot that they'd smashed while rough-housing in his room and a talking toy that never worked again after Ren decided to play with it in the bath. They'd drawn on his homework a few times - and even Haru's too once. Haru hadn't been quite as practised in dealing with the disruption that little siblings could bring and hadn't known how to deal with them either. Makoto still remembered the way he'd simply sat and scowled at the colourful crayon stick figures dancing brightly over his literature review for a full five minutes and the way he'd set it aside to neatly transcribe everything he'd written - nearly two pages - all over again on new, clean sheets. The dismay that had been on his face that day still brought a smile to Makoto's face.

In all fairness, they broke less of his stuff as they got older - especially after his dad had mandated that they had to knock and ask before going into his room. Not that they always followed it. And Makoto attributed at least some of his patience to the skill set he'd developed as a big brother. Growing up with Haru, he'd always been good at sharing and with Ren and Ran, he just shared more.

And he could never begrudge them for any of it, even if he was the sort to - especially as they grew, slowly developing their own personalities and a special affinity for him. He looked forward to playing with them every day, rushing home after school to delighted laughter, sometimes with Haru in tow. It was exciting when they were very little, to come home and see what new thing they learned that day - if they'd smiled or laughed or rolled over or sat up for the first time.

He was Ran's first word - a soft, cute little ' _nii_ ' - and when they started to crawl and walk, they followed him around eagerly like little ducklings. And when he spoke, they hung onto every word and believed everything he said. It was a power he found he had to be very careful with. Haru too, because his deadpan face had them believing everything he said even when it was a joke. And he might as well have been another big brother to them, they were so used to his presence.

As they grew, he found Ran was brave and assertive and bossed them into doing whatever she wanted most of them time, while Ren was happy to follow her lead until he felt he was drawing the short straw and that's when Makoto inevitably had to step in and play moderator - a role he had plenty of opportunity to practice to the point of perfection. He was the one that Ren came to when he had a nightmare, crawling into his bed and tucking himself under his arm at night and then Ran would join them in the morning so that he became used to two warm, little bodies pressed against his own. And he was the one who cajoled Ran into trying new foods, because she was a picky eater who looked at every different thing on her plate suspiciously and declared that she didn't like it before she'd ever tasted it. When they came home from school, they were always eager to tell him what they'd done that day and ask him to help them with their homework, even when he was tired or busy and, most of the time, he really wanted to too.

It was an unconscious thing - what being a big brother meant to him. But also something defining.

What he missed the most though, from the moment his family had kissed him goodbye after settling him into his dorm room in Tokyo and left, was their presence. Just the sound of Ren's footsteps in the hall, always running for something; their voices in the next room as they squabbled over one thing or the other; the possibility of his door opening as Ran wandered in just to sit on his bed and play a game quietly as he did his homework.

"We'll be there soon. They'll probably be waiting for you at the station."

Makoto turned from the window, where he was watching the green blur of fields pass by the train. He smiled sheepishly.

"Was I being that obvious about missing them?" Haru just looked at him knowingly, the smallest of smiles on his face, and Makoto had to concede. He laughed, self-consciously, scratching his cheek. "I think I might be more excited than they will to be home for winter break."

"Mm, they'll probably turn up with all the things they want to show you, without even waiting to get home first. Auntie's probably cooked a great meal too."

"You're having dinner with us, right? I'm sure they want to show Haru-chan everything too." Haru snorted and ducked his head and Makoto carried on, unmistakeable excitement in his voice. "It's forecast to snow sometime next week, so we can all make snowmen and maybe even a snow fort, like when we were little, ne, Haru? And do you think it'll be fun to take them ice-skating?"

Makoto knew he was a person who's relationships were a central part of him. And if anyone had asked him to describe himself, the sound of two voices calling 'onii-chan' had, over the years, become something he would define himself by. Not just a son. Not just a friend.

A big brother.

And sometimes, that felt a lot like being a superhero.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in bits and pieces, so it feels a little disjointed to me, but I hope you like it! :)


End file.
